


Unmasking

by MumbleBee19



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), The Dark Knight Rises
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Past Violence, Permanent Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9476477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MumbleBee19/pseuds/MumbleBee19
Summary: John reached slowly for the mask, watching Bane’s eyes like he would a wild animal. Bane jerked back, but only a fraction before seeming to catch himself in John’s gaze - frozen, silent, ready. A gentle “shhh” escaped John’s lips – more exhale than exhortation – and his fingertips touched the cold metal grill of the mask.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ... so please be gentle! I love the idea of John getting to see vulnerable Bane, so this happened :)

John reached slowly for the mask, watching Bane’s eyes like he would a wild animal. Bane jerked back, but only a fraction before seeming to catch himself in John’s gaze - frozen, silent, ready. A gentle “shhh” escaped John’s lips – more exhale than exhortation – and his fingertips touched the cold metal grill of the mask.

John felt his heartbeat jackrabbit at the contact, willing the expression in his eyes to stay calm. He knew that if Bane sensed fear, this could be over before it began. And over painfully, if instinct overrode intent for too long.

Slender fingers gently, slowly, but firmly slid from the front of the mask to the fastenings near Bane’s temple. John’s eyes never left Bane’s. Steely blue met deep brown, cold air grounded by sun-warmed earth. At the click and release of the latch, Bane’s eyelids widened a fraction, muscles in his neck and traps flexing in preparation to fight. John could see him resisting the reflex to re-affix the mask, eliminate the threat, and stop the vulnerability that he was literally opening up to one millimetre at a time.

But Bane wasn’t the type to give in to a challenge – even if that challenge was his own fear, or his own sense of security. John caressed the cheek that suddenly became available to his palm. It was pitted and scarred. Warm and taut. A rush of air escaped through his nose, and John realized that he had been holding his breath in anticipation and anxiety. It was then that Bane reached up with his own massive hands to remove the mask the rest of the way, hesitating only once before John gave a microscopic nod, lips parting and cheeks flushing with excitement.

John had waited months for this moment. First, as a cop, he had wished to see the face behind the terrifying mask. A man was never as frightening, no matter how grotesque his features. But the other-ness of the mask was chilling, even to an officer of the law. After his … enforced residence … with Bane; The hours spent talking, learning his heart and mind, gradually developing a respect despite massive differences in opinion - well. Then the reason for wanting to see him as a man and not a monster was something different all together.

Bane’s eyes skittered away from John’s the instant the mask peeled back to reveal his features. Bane gently set the device down on the table beside him, but still didn’t, couldn't, look back to see John’s reaction. He felt an overwhelming sense of shame at his appearance, mixed with hope. It was the hope that was the dangerous piece. The piece that could rip him apart worse than the knives and knuckles and nails of the pit.

“Oh God.” Bane’s eyes flew to John’s, guarded, uncertain how to read the tone of the man’s voice.

“Bane. You are,” John’s voice cracked with emotion. “So, so beautiful.”

John’s hands came up to cup the face in front of him, gentle – reverent – before pressing his lips to Bane’s cheek. The scars were bad. No way around that. Even as old as they were, they were still raised channels of red, angry tissue, that obviously had taken a long time to heal – and improperly at that. But not even the worst superficial damage could erase the exquisite bone structure. And nothing could distract from the man's stunningly shaped, plush lips. John could see where Bane’s nose had been broken – badly – in at least two places. The right cheek bone was slightly depressed (zygomatic maxillary fracture for sure), his jaw was likely broken in multiple places, and the bone had fused and calloused slightly unevenly. But Christ, even with all that, the man was captivating. Before the pit, he would have been achingly beautiful.

“John Blake, you do not have to lie to me,” was Bane’s gruff – and typically formal – response.

A smile started to spread across John’s face, lifting the furrow of his brow and gifting Bane with the sight of his dimples.

“God Bane, I’m not lying. Your face…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “I’m bad with words. Will you believe me if I show you?”

Without waiting for a response, John reached up and captured Bane’s mouth with his own. He sunk into the kiss, trying to convey his amazement and attraction with lips and teeth and tongue. John could taste the medicinal bitterness of the gas, but not even that could detract from finally – finally! – tasting Bane’s mouth.

Without conscious planning, John realized that he was wrapped around the larger man’s frame, breath hitching with desire, cock hot and hard against Bane’s thigh. He groaned, feeling the answering erection thrust gently into the soft plane of his belly.

Bane’s breathing was erratic, and John realized through the fog of his own arousal that only part of that gasping was due to lust. The pain was already taking over without the analgesic gas to numb the agony.

Wanting just another moment, John hitched his leg high around Bane’s waist and drew his mouth down for another lush kiss. Bane’s arms tightened around John’s lithe frame and he rocked against the other man, nails dragging gently down his lower back until his hands reached John’s denim clad rear. Both men groaned when Bane tightened his grasp over John’s cheeks, pulling his pelvis in tighter and kneading at the taught flesh.

Despite his incredible amount of self-control, a pained gasp escaped Bane’s lips when he curved his spine to further encase John’s body with his own.

“C’mon now big guy, you need the mask back on,” John managed to say past the tightness of his throat. Bane shook his head in denial, a small growl of protest sneaking out, but he could already feel the lightning jags of pain spreading out from his spine into his legs and neck. In a minute he’d be immobile on the ground. In two, he’d be screaming in agony.

Bane slid his hands up from their clutching grip on John’s ass to hold his cop’s face. With exquisite tenderness that only large men seem to possess, he lifted John’s mouth to his own, skating thumbs across the tops of John’s cheeks, and pressing their lips together with the barest hint of pressure. John’s trembled, stunned by the wave of emotion he felt. The desire to protect this man was comical in light of the incredible strength that Bane possessed, but also proportionate to the vulnerability John had been entrusted with.

Pulling back with a stifled sob, John fumbled for the mask. “Please Bane, I know you’re hurting.”

Nodding stiffly, Bane allowed John to help him re-strap the contraption to his face, relief flooding through his veins and tortured nerve endings with each deep breath. John stepped close, pressing his face into Bane’s chest, wrapping his arms around his torso and squeezing hard. Bane could feel the tremors running through John’s limbs and the heard the hitching in his breath.

Pressing the grill of the mask gently – so carefully – to the top of John’s head, Bane breathed quietly and ran his hands up and down John’s back.


End file.
